Heads or Tails
by GusCGC
Summary: The future seems bright for our two favourite members of Major Crimes but how long can you keep something as valuable as Carrie's memory away from the wrong hands? When the push comes to shove, who will still be standing? Specially if the Goverment is involved. Stay tuned!


Author's note: No, I haven't forgotten about my readers or my stories. The thing is I'm working like a dog this summer and I cannot write as much as I want but I always save the best for you people. I will be back with Sherlock shortly but meanwhile, a tip for Unforgotten. Great show, great characters! Here's to you!

Enjoy!

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 **1\. Out of the Water.**

" _Secret, hidden underneath it, Trying hard to keep it_

 _Safely out of reach._

 _Creeping, I can feel it breathing,_

 _Calling to the surface,_

 _Finally in my dreams_ "

Digital Daggers.

 ***** July 10th 1988.

It was a warm soft morning of a nice Monday in the New York docks. Hot days. After a week of pressing meetings in the high stances and several more in sight, the New Yorkers kept their attention on daily issues like the weather or President Bush's speeches. The sun crept from behind the clouds and shone over the waters. The wharf had been quiet for hours as the ships were arriving with the first day lights when a loud scream was heard.

The Mayor of New York had promised the union leader of that borough a meeting to see to the strange arrival of illegal shipments when they heard the sounds. A large crowd was surrounding a small corner of the busy docks that had been blocked with the dumpsters for hours and now someone had pulled back the curtain. The large bodyguards surrounded the mayor and the politicians. The young assistants stared in amazement while the place got filled with all the coppers and forensics. Eyes were fixed; hearts were broken that day as everyone recognized the small body that was on the wet cobblestones. For months, everyone had seen that brown and slightly curled hair and those big oak-colored eyes. All the media had covered that story and now, the denouement had come to be true.

Alice Wright, that angel-faced girl that had been kidnapped shortly after her eleventh birthday, lied still on her back covered in blood and dust. Her dress had been torn to shreds and the thought of raping couldn't be ruled out. The poor thing was all black and blue, as if all her bones had been cracked. Her parents had begged for her return for months, had posted photos and had the police working extra hours and all for nothing. The little girl had been savagely killed.

Joan Webster, the young forensic, was the first one to approach the cold body. It took all her strength to keep her from throwing everything. She had hoped all along that this day didn't come. Joan nodded to her team and the forensics started their work along with the coppers. Little could be found but everything was worth in order to somehow avenge the memory of that poor girl. Joan could felt her always steady hands tremble; she couldn't get herself to examine the victim. She simply couldn't do it. She had known Alice's parents. Two brilliant and hard working people, good people who didn't deserve that. Alice's mother had died just a few weeks ago, unable to withstand the sorrow anymore. Now Mr. Wright was alone and the future was dark for him. The commisioner had appointed him as the prime suspect. Joan sighed. The most devoted father in the world was now a cold-stone murderer. It was an awful thought.

Joan closed her eyes and she felt someone kneeling beside her. A young man, one of the small fries in power. She couldn't even remember his name from the press but Joan could tell he was shaking even more than her.

"Sir, I have to ask you kindly to leave this place. This is a crime scene" she said pushing him away with her gloved hands.

"Is it? You guys were supposed to prevent this from happening" the young man kept a soft tone but there was a brush of rage in there.

"You think I like this? We though for weeks that we had it. Today was going to be the last stance of those murderers" Joan growled.

"Well, it's not. So be ashamed of yourself"

"So do you. The council has done nothing to save her either"

"…" he looked away. "That's the sad truth of this. We are all accomplishes of those bastards. Somehow. By doing nothing, we ruined everything" the young man put his gloves on and closed Alice's eyes. "And now... This poor thing pays the bait and gets killed like a dog while her father stands trial"

"... You should go back with your tight suits or they will start missing you" Joan grabbed her things. "Like I said, this is a crime scene and you're not allowed in here"

"I guess that much" he stood up. "Just promise me one thing. You will find out who did it. Who REALLY did it"

"You can bet that I'm not gonna let that filthy son of a bitch get away with this" she nodded.

"I'll see that you do"

"Didn't get your name though, Mr. Fancy Clothes"

"…" short smile. "Eliot Delson, small assistant of the government"

"Joan Webster, forensic"

"Do your magic then… Joan"

"And you do your papers… Eliot" she watched him walk away and started her analysis while the young man joined her co-workers. He could still feel that tug in his chest as he looked at Alice one last time. The young man swore to himself that that event would never again repeat itself.

It would took years before he would meet Joan again and other long years before his mind would travel back to that spot on the docks that received the nickname "Dickory Docks" from that day on. And it would take long before Eliot would find someone deserving his protection as much as little Alice.

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A lot of research but always nice to work things out.

Keep this scene in mind, guys.

We move on! Oh, and in case you haven't notice. The song at the beginning appears in Carrie's Caller.


End file.
